


Lemon & Lavender

by fikkifini



Series: It's Your Special Day [2]
Category: Free!
Genre: Birthday, But damn it sure comes close to it, Haru's beloved apron makes an appearance, M/M, Making Out, No Smut, Partial Nudity, Sex Humor, Sex Talk, Someone Send Help MakoHaru Is Killing Me, fluff overload, well that gives it away lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 09:53:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11483919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fikkifini/pseuds/fikkifini
Summary: A (Super Late!) Haru birthday fic to match the one I did for Makoto last year! Haru is on edge because he knows Makoto is planning a surprise for his birthday, but he's certainly not expecting the treat he finds when he gets to his boyfriend's apartment...





	Lemon & Lavender

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I don't make this into a habit, otherwise I'll have nothing but birthday fics anymore lol. This one is a little more sexy since it's like 6 months into them dating. ALSO me and Inna ([anunyun](http://anunyun.tumblr.com/)) collab'ed and she made A BEAUTIFUL [COMPANION ART PIECE](http://anunyun.tumblr.com/post/162915068821/for-a-ficart-collab-with-the-beautiful-and) SO GO CHECK IT OUT! I love her she's like literally my bff and I'm glad we conceived this little story together :3 plus she's my beta so I have to be nice to her.  
> Also what a shitty title please pretend it has deep meaning thanks
> 
> ANYWAY please enjoy :)

Haru shutters a sigh of pure bliss as he steps out onto the train platform, his lungs savoring the crisp evening air. He hates the train, more than a dry summer drought or a positively ruined burnt mackerel dinner. But he’s reminded every day of why trains are actually so wonderful, a true gift to God’s earth, each time he’s greeted by sparking jade eyes that make the journey well worth the sweat-sticky air and mild claustrophobia.

Sneakers squeaking on the rain-dampened pavement, Haru sets off at an enthusiastic speed-walk towards the next block, eager to get under cover before the next swell from the sky drenches him. Normally, he’d have no issue with getting soaked to the bone by a guerrilla storm, but he has to stay dry because today is special.

 _That’s right_ , he remembers with a pleasant chill.

_Today is going to be special._

At least, that’s what Makoto reassured him earlier this morning via a simple but somewhat ominous text. Naturally, Haru expected to hear from his boyfriend today at the first signs of daybreak- it was his birthday, after all- but instead of the standard “happy birthday” wishes, Makoto’s message spoke to a much deeper place in Haru’s gut that left him reeling with both delighted anticipation and nauseating anxiousness.

The latter is certainly something Haru doesn’t expect to be grappling with on a day like this. Maybe it’s because Makoto simply didn’t sound like himself in the uncharacteristically blunt message. Or maybe it’s the expectations of making this birthday as impossibly perfect as the last that left him sinking with preemptive dread. How could they possibly top the dreamy evening they had spent together last November after sharing their first kiss? Plus, there were very few gifts that could outdo intimately cuddling with your recently converted childhood best friend to lover.

And not to mention the fact that Makoto _already_ has something planned, entirely without Haru’s knowledge or input, which admittedly does scare him a little. For all Haru knows, Makoto’s idea of “special” and his are vastly different. If the poor, oblivious guy _does_ actually ruin his birthday somehow, how is Haru supposed to handle that?

Not that Haru is really that picky about how he spends his time with Makoto- any day with his sunshine boyfriend is priceless to him. But he sort of doubts that Makoto really has any inkling of Haru’s deepest, most suppressed desires to be swept off his feet in a manner not so different from the way a prince treats his beloved maiden.

Talk about setting someone up for failure, huh?

Thankfully, Haru only has mere minutes to brood over his worries before he’s taking the steps up to Makoto’s apartment door by the two’s, the strap of his gym bag clutched tightly to his shoulder in his hurry.

He digs around the pockets of his raincoat for keys, rooting for the spare he keeps to Makoto’s apartment. The brunet had warned Haru that he won’t be able to answer the door for some bizarre reason that he chose not to elaborate on earlier that morning. Haru sort of hopes it’s of some kind of grand surprise tying Makoto’s hands down; like a new kitten- or even better, a kiddie pool filled with mackerel.

He waves the thought away with a shake of his head. Best not to get his hopes up too high.

He lets himself in with little more than a muttered “tadaima” to warn Makoto of his presence, though they hardly require the greeting anymore since they’re in and out of each other’s places so often it’s almost embarrassing. He misses Makoto’s response from the kitchen around the corner, distracted by getting his shoes and coat off as fast as humanly possibly because that means he’s that much closer to seeing his boyfriend and finding out what is supposedly going to make today so damn special. There’s an unusually sweet smell wafting through the apartment that he does catch though, one that holds notes of vanilla and… lavender? How strange. Must be a new candle, he figures.

Socks freed, he veers out of the genkan and around the corner, practically sliding on glossy laminate floors. However, what greets him in the kitchen nearly stops him dead in his tracks- nearly, because he doesn’t quite have the traction for it and effectively slips, landing on his tailbone with a concerning _thud_.

The throbbing ache on his ass is nothing compared to the throb that positively jolts Haru’s heart into overdrive as he takes in his boyfriend, who is currently boasting Haru’s all-time favorite and go-to outfit: an apron over absolutely nothing else.

“H-Haru!! Are you okay?”

He almost misses the sight of Makoto’s firm, tanline-framed behind, but manages to catch a bewildered glance before the brunet wheels around at the commotion, scrambling to Haru’s side to help him up. Makoto squats beside him dotingly, the thick, corded muscles of his thighs on full, glorious display to Haru’s dazed pleasure. Wait, why exactly is Makoto wearing his apron and absolutely nothing else in the first place? He must have missed something before he ended up on the floor.

“Um- I-” he stutters helplessly because wow, who knew that the sight of Makoto being _almost_ naked would be just as arousing and completely distracting as him being entirely naked? “Where’s your pants?” Haru blurts in his stunned state.

“Ah, right,” sighing, Makoto dips his head with mild disappointment. “Well, I wanted to surprise you with one of my favorite sights to come home to. I thought it would be a nice change, you know, for your birthday.”

Brow quirked in confusion, Haru repeats, “Favorite sights?”

Whatever it is, the thought provokes an even darker blush from Makoto and he fidgets, twisting the hem of the apron between his fingers. “Y-you know… like, when Haru cooks for me and he’s dressed like this when I get home after class. Seeing you like this always makes my day better...” He gulps a steadying breath before murmuring, “ You’re so stunning. And I know I’m nowhere near as beautiful as you, but I wanted to try to return the favor I guess.” Peering up through dark lashes, he smiles despite the embarrassment painting his cheeks.

Haru entirely lacks the sufficient words for expressing his appreciation for such an adorable, sexy, and absolutely heart-melting gift. He has one primary form of showing gratitude, and that involves his lips. So he uses just that, showing Makoto all of his gratitude with a kiss that knocks the brunet back onto his own bare behind. Haru lunges forward with a follow-up kiss that is so deep it pins Makoto against the cool, wood-grained floor, tongue delving into the heat smoldering behind Makoto’s parted lips.The brunet groans, pleasantly disoriented, although Haru isn’t sure if it’s from shock or from the sheer intensity of their connection.

He prefers to think the latter.

Straddling his boyfriend, Haru takes the liberty of pulling back simply to admire the view beneath him. Blown irises swallowing up shimmering green, a halo of summer sun-bleached locks splayed on the ground, framing delectably bronzed skin. The flush of swelling, pink lips, parted around a sweet sigh of his very own name.

“ _Haru…”_

He wants to hear it a thousand more times.

He loves this man with every bone in his body, every cell in his bloodstream. How could he have gotten so lucky to have this for the rest of his life? How could he have possibly questioned that today would somehow be ruined by the person who owns the other half of his very soul?

“ _Haru?”_ There’s that sweet sigh again. _“_ What’s wrong?” Fingers trace concerningly down his thigh, breaking him out of his stare.

“You were right,” he whispers, lacing his fingers into the ones resting on his legs, palms flush together and thrumming with the steady pound of two bodies in perfect sync. Makoto sits up, positively grinning like he already knows what Haru is going to say. He probably does. Their hearts are connected, after all. “Today is very special. Thank you.”

“I didn’t even get to the actually special part yet though.” Makoto draws his hands away only to frame Haru’s delicate face with them, brushing away strands of silky hair dampened by the humidity outside.

“Mm?” Haru sighs, fairly doubtful of the fact because the heat of Makoto’s bare thighs under his touch is certainly doing the trick at the moment.

“I baked a cake for you. It’s lemon and lavender.”

“Oh, so _that’s_ what that smell is.”

“Haru!” Makoto’s pride deflates visibly. He hesitantly sniffs the air. “Is it really that bad?”

A rare chuckle escapes the raven’s lips, “I’m just teasing you. It smells wonderful.” A little crispy perhaps, but Haru gives him the benefit of the doubt regardless and snuggles even closer, lips outlining the strong curve of Makoto’s jaw. “Thank you again. For both surprises.”

They revel in the warmth of each other’s embrace; short, soft kisses punctuate Makoto’s murmured, “Happy birthday, Haru-chan.”

Haru’s wandering hands make their way to the sharp curve of Makoto’s hips, teasing the dip of his pelvis and the soft curls of hair trailing downward invitingly. His lips are shamelessly insistent the next time they meet his boyfriend’s. “What do you say,” he whispers with a suggestive roll of his hips, “we have a little _dessert_ before dessert.”

Makoto catches on to his meaning without a hitch, a sultry smirk curling on his lips while his hands venture beneath Haru’s shirt, exploring the tempting curve of his waist. “I think that sounds delicious,” he agrees. Reaching behind himself, he grasps for the knotted apron ties, eager to have more than just Haru’s lips pressed against him. A touch to his wrist stops him though.

“Leave it.” Haru’s tone may be soft, but the words are unmistakably a demand. “I want to unwrap my own gifts.”

Humming his amusement at the request, Makoto surges forward, reversing their positions as he pins Haru’s hips to the floor with a teasing grind of his own. Finding his hand, Makoto leisurely guides the raven’s touch up from his thigh to the curve of his backside, then to the apron strings that tickle the arch of his back. Haru can’t help but smiles into their next kiss, his stomach bursting with butterflies that distantly remind him of a mid-November evening not so long ago.

“There you go,” Makoto wiggles his ass playfully, “start unwrapping.”

The gesture is too adorable for Haru to hold back. He kisses Makoto again, steady and unrelenting as he gently reminds him, “I love you. I love you so much.”

Grinning against Haru’s lips, Makoto chuckles, “Mmm, and you mean that as more than friends, right?”

The familiar words ring sweetly in Haru’s ears. He means it more than Makoto could ever possibly fathom, but there’s no way to put that in words, to make him really understand. Instead, he’ll settle for explaining it the best way he knows how.

“Of course you idiot. Now shush, I’m trying to make love to my present.” Haru secretly delights in how his words can still make his boyfriend blush, despite the fact that Makoto is literally on top of him with only an apron on to somewhat conceal his increasingly obvious arousal.

The brunet grins past it though and whispers lowly, “Whatever you want, birthday boy. I’m all yours.”

And suddenly, Haru has no doubt that this birthday, and every single one to come after it, will always be just as special as the last- as long as he has Makoto there to celebrate with him.

**Author's Note:**

> Makoto practiced baking that cake four times before he got it right by the way
> 
> Thank you for reading! Check out my [makoharu blog](http://tachinanabananase.tumblr.com/) as well as my [personal blog](http://fikkifini.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! <3


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